


Destroy Project

by ThePieGod7



Series: Destroy Project [1]
Category: Love Live! School Idol Festival (Video Game), Love Live! School Idol Project, Love Live! Sunshine!!, ラブライブ! 虹ヶ咲学園スクールアイドル同好会 | Love Live! Nijigasaki Gakuen School Idol Doukoukai (Anime)
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Comical Amounts of Blood, F/F, Graphic Descriptions of Violence and Attractive Women, No More Heroes Inspired AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Riko is horny, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-27 16:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30125547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePieGod7/pseuds/ThePieGod7
Summary: In a gruesome world where assassination is legal, killers run amuck, and the Destroy district of Tokyo is ruled by an underbelly of cold-hearted assassins, constantly chasing after their next target.All the while, a terminally gay pianist is low on cash.
Series: Destroy Project [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217069
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Reaper's Soliloquy

A cool silence fell upon the crowd, as the lights dimmed, focusing on a spotless grand piano, alone on the stage. A woman dressed in a  stylish  red dress stepped from behind the black curtains, her long, crimson hair sparkling in the stage lights. She walked gracefully over to the piano, looked to the audience, and bowed. Lowering herself on the seat, her hands found their place on the keys, and hovered over them for a moment. The girl took a breath, and started to play. 

It was elegant. A wonderful melody of notes bellowed through the room, her fingers dancing upon the keys. The chords flowed with the skill of an expert pianist. To a stuffy audience, it felt like a cool breeze had swept right through the theater. It would make one want to stand up and dance along, if it weren’t for the space limitations of the crowded theater.

Suddenly, a group of men burst through the entrance. All dressed identically, they wore classy suits with sunglasses on, despite the low brightness of the auditorium. They had the appearance of regular businessmen. Tumbling loudly through the rows, they made a scene of themselves. Much of the audience, who felt quite annoyed, turned to the men that had surrounded them. For the moment, they all shared a similar thought:  _ If they were supposed to be working for this place, they were doing a terrible job. _

Then a head came off. 

Screams were heard as a fountain of blood poured from a man’s severed neck, staining the clothes of adjacent audience members. A gunshot echoed, right as another man from the opposite side of the stadium was shot point blank, which left a bloody mark in the chair he had been sitting in. And next to him, a woman was sliced down the middle with a sword, her two halves flopping onto the ground below. 

By this point, everyone was terrified out of their minds. Rushing out of their seats and clambering over each other, the audience was producing a chorus of shrieks to accompany the piano piece being performed, as the mysterious group of men continued to slaughter each and every soul that inhabited the theater. 

All the while, the girl continued to play, eyes closed, seemingly unaware of the bloodshed. The notes continued to ring, beautifully played as always. Even among gunshots, sword slashes, and corpses hitting the floor, her fingers continued to dance on the keys, and the chords continued to hum a calm, soothing tune. Absorbed in her playing, the girl allowed herself to let out a small, prideful smile.

Audience members pushed and shoved at each other, but the massacre didn’t stop. Crowds of people were taken out in an instant, reducing them to a pile of bodies stacked on top of one another. Blood was practically flying throughout the air, splattering the suited men in a dark red rain. Not a single seat in the chamber had gone undirtied.

And then, it was over. The audience had been made into a pool of blood that bits of organs swam around in. Every visible surface had been coated with an abundance of blood, which could be seen even through the dimmed lights. Apparently satisfied, the suited men sheathed their weapons, wiped the fluid off their sunglasses, and dispersed from the theater, calmly and orderly, and just as quick as they had entered. 

As the girl reached the end of her piece and played her final note, her hands rested at her sides, and she stood up on the stage. Smiling, she looked to the audience.

Opposing her was a sea of corpses. Dead bodies littered the floor, a floor which was stained by the blood that the dead bodies had leaked. Bullet shells, slash marks, and a wealth of decapitated heads populated the formerly lively audience chamber. Not a beating heart was in sight, although  _ non- _ beating hearts were definitely visible. 

Still wearing a gleamy smile, the girl bowed again, and exited to the left.

-

Riko Sakurachi sat on her bed, eyeing her rent bill for the month. 

100000 yen. She bit her lip.

Her pay as a pianist had been on a pretty steady decline for a few months now. People just didn’t go to see classical performances these days, save for the extra rich. So although this wasn’t completely unexpected, it still threw a wrench in her plans. Especially since she recently splurged on the limited edition  _ Starkiller Yoko  _ 1/7th scale figure, but that was neither here nor there. The fact of the matter was, she needed cash. 

She looked over to her bookshelf. Filled with anime figurines, her collection of idol DVDs, and stacks upon stacks of yuri novels, all of which were matched with a bouquet of posters and scrolls on her walls.

Riko shook her head. She wasn’t desperate enough to sell her merch… not just yet. 

That would mean she needed a side gig. Pushing herself off the mattress (she couldn’t afford a bed frame) and walking over to her desk, she moved aside her practice keyboard, tossed the music sheets on the floor, and opened her laptop. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, before noticing the picture frame she had seated on the desk a while back, but was unfortunately engulfed by piles of junk until this very moment.

Eli Ayase. Acclaimed assassin, occasional fashion model, and Riko’s idol for the better part of her adult life. Ah, to be swept away by a sexy, smooth-talking, professional killer from Russia… It was every girl’s dream! Probably. But Riko wished she could be in her shoes. To be the one who wielded the sword. Who splits all the bad guys in half, taking contracts in the underbelly of Tokyo, from rich cats in suits who wore a monocle. And to be hired by the president to protect his daughter, only for them to fall in love...  _ That  _ was Riko’s dream. But Riko had given up on that dream long ago. When she set this frame down, on this same desk, she had decided she was satisfied to reside here, spend her days pursuing her passion of piano-playing…

Riko’s thoughts stopped themselves.  _ That passion had betrayed her. _ By now, she should have been living it up, performing on a luxurious grand piano made of solid gold in front of the bourgeoisie every day, and getting drunk off her ass, loads of hot dames at her side every night. Instead, she was here at this dingy apartment, rotting in her own stench, practically scratching off her remaining days from the walls she lived between.

She couldn’t afford a  _ bed frame,  _ for Christ’s sake. Where did she go wrong?

Riko sighed, leaning back in the ancient wood chair she snatched off a garage sale. She looked at the picture again, and closed her eyes.

Wait. The picture. Riko leaned in, gazing down Eli Ayase’s slender, muscular frame. The way she gripped her Kalashnikov model 1947, painted bright blue with a large ‘ ᴙ’ sprawled across the receiver. The way her succulent, bright yellow hair flowed in the wind. The way her eyes very clearly said, “Don’t fuck with me.” 

Suddenly, Riko remembered why she set that picture there in the first place. She got off the chair, and walked over to her dresser. Seated on top was her most prized possession: 

The  _ Dawnbreaker.  _ Or, more accurately, a replica. Seventy-eight centimeters in diameter, hand-painted sheath, with the blade forged by a professional blacksmith, this katana looked like it was brought straight out of  _ Can Love Bloom, Even in Deep Space?,  _ the romance manga it hailed from. And it was probably just as dangerous. Ever since assassination became a legal practice, merchandise manufacturers, liscencers, and toy factories all became more lax on what determined a ‘dangerous’ product (apparently, court cases had been settled with the justification of ‘self-defense was a necessary right in these times,’ whatever that meant). With  _ Dawnbreaker,  _ Riko could feel that practice firsthand. Just lightly running your finger along it could still give you a small cut.

The sword itself had cost Riko a good few hours of overtime, but it was more than worth the investment, just to feel like you were a part of the action. But now… she really would be. Hoisting the sheath into her belt loop on her jeans, Riko slipped on her dark red leather jacket, tied her tennis shoes, forgot to change out of her  _ Blossoms Bloom Under the Sun  _ collectable t-shirt, hopped on her bike (she couldn’t afford a car) and rode over to 2nd biggest building in town… The Tokyo Assassin Association.

-

“You’re here to… be an assassin?” 

“That’s right.” Riko gulped. She was nervous, but in truth, she was expecting to be  _ more  _ nervous. The woman - although Riko almost wanted to call her a girl - interviewing her from across the table looked strikingly professional, right down to her sunglasses, which she had chosen to wear inside, for whatever reason. Her face was very stern and her eyebrows tensed alongside a constant frown, as if she was deeply annoyed by everything in her surroundings. Riko thought it might have been a serious case of resting bitch face, but she wasn’t  _ too  _ sure. The only reason Riko hadn’t pissed a hole into her pants by now was because the girl - or, woman, rather - was young. She looked to be younger than Riko, in fact. It made Riko wonder how the hell she was being interviewed by her at this very instant. 

The woman adjusted her sunglasses, and twirled her finger around in her glossy, hot red hair. She waited another second to say anything, as if she was eyeing down Riko from behind the cold, dark windows that lie in those frames. Then, she sighed, and pursed her lips to speak. 

“I’m contractually obliged to ask what your goals as an assassin are. The jobs we assign you to will revolve around how you answer the question, so I’ll give you a minute to get your thoughts together.”

“I-” Oops. She didn’t think about this. Riko forced her mouth shut, to make sure she didn’t say anything stupid. And then, she racked her brain for an answer.

Obviously, her primary concern was money. But was she looking for a stable job? Probably not, she still had piano performances booked for a few months from now. If so, then maybe a part time assassin? But if she did that, she probably would only get enough cash for a few months of rent, if that. 

“One question. What’s the quickest way to get a lot of cash?”

Her interviewer tilted her head, in a sort of conceited way. “Uh, any idea how much?”

“Say… a year’s worth of rent?”

The girl sighed. “Well, I’m not sure if this is what you mean… but you could make an attempt to climb the rankings, and become the top assassin.”

Riko gasped. “The top assassin?”

“Of Tokyo, at least. But it’s pretty risky. I don’t know how tough you are, but you’ll probably die. For someone like you, it’s n-”

“I’ll do it.” Riko splurted. This was her chance! To become a top assassin, just like Eli Ayase! Impress everyone, get rich, and swoon all the girls in town, all with one little job… It was perfect! What could go wrong?

The interviewer’s head moved in an indistinct way, which Riko guessed was her eyes rolling. She then took a sheet of paper from a drawer, and slammed it on the desk in front of Riko. 

"This is the contract. Read it, sign it, and then you're a certified assassin. But remember, once you take that pen, and write your name on that line…" The woman lowered her glasses, revealing a pair of icy, dark purple eyes that pierced straight through Riko’s soul. "Your fate is sealed. There's no coming back."

“Yeah, whatever. There’s no sketchy shit, is there? I won’t need a lawyer or anything, will I?”

"I sincerely doubt you can afford a lawyer."

Ouch. The worst part was, she was right. “Alright, give me a minute.” Riko replied, ignoring the lawyer comment. She took a pen out from a cup on the desk, and started reading the fine print. 

The rules were pretty standard, as far as Riko could tell. Employment, showing up on time, salary, et cetera. One that caught Riko’s eye, though, was a section that was labeled, ‘In case of employee’s death…’

“Excuse me, what’s this about editing my will?”

“If you become one of the top 10, get taken on in a rankings fight, and lose, your assets are given to the victor as prize money.”

Riko nodded. That made sense. With no more questions to ask, she printed her name on the line, and handed it to the interviewer, who briefly checked it down. 

“Congratulations, you’re now a certified assassin.” She paused, to let Riko soak in the moment. “I’m Maki Nishikino, your new manager. To begin the first rankings fight, you’ll need to pay a sum of 50000 yen.”

“Wha- that wasn’t in the contract!”

Maki spun the paper around, pointing to an extract that read, ‘In order to begin a rankings match, the challenger must pay an entrance fee, the amount of which is to be determined by the Tokyo Assassin Association.’ It was, in fact, in the contract.

Riko groaned. “That’s half my rent…”

“Well, think about it this way. If you win, you’ll receive more than enough to pay it back. And if you lose, you won’t have any more rent to pay.”

Riko raised her eyebrow. “For someone that didn’t want me to go through with this, you’re being awfully supportive.”

Maki shrugged. “Well,  _ you  _ already signed the contract. I’m just doing my job.”

Riko returned the shrug with another shrug. “In any case, you’re right. If I transfer the money by the end of today, when’s the earliest I can start fighting?”

“Tomorrow.”

Riko shot out of her seat. “You’re on!” She said, a little loudly, and hurried out. 

-

As Riko petaled along the dirt road, the smell of fertilizer nice and fresh in her nose, she played Maki’s words in her mind again and again. 

“Your first target is a woman who goes by  _ Harvester _ . She’s a skilled assassin, but a bit out of it. You’ll find her in the farmland, down south. She doesn’t live with anyone, and I don’t believe there to be any guards, so you got lucky. Try to keep yourself alive, ok? I'm not particularly fond of seeing newbies die.”

A bit 'out of it'? What did that mean? Well, whatever. She was approaching a large farmhouse surrounded by fields of wheat, so she’d find out firsthand, soon enough. 

And 'soon enough' it was, because there was a woman sitting in a rocking chair right in front. 

"Are you Mrs. Harvester?"

The woman continued to swish back and forth in her chair. "I used to be." She responded wistfully. 

Riko got off her bike, and hit the kickstand. "I'm sorry to intrude, but-" 

"You're here for the rankings fight, right?" The woman looked to be somewhat young herself, but she had a strange aura to her that made it seem like she was older. Not elderly, per sé, more… motherly. 

And motherly she was! Her bust was huge! Double D’s, if Riko had to guess. The way her ginormous knockers pressed against her button-up shirt was nothing if not hypnotic. Her hips, in scientific terms, went for miles. Riko could only imagine how loose she must tie the belts she wore. Her face, her cute-as-a-button, wide-eyed face seemed to be dripping with sweat, covering her soft little freckles in a thin layer of moisture. The way that sweat dripped down from her must drip from her face, and stain her overalls… It was a sight that Riko wished she could behold. Not to mention her hair! A beautiful blend between red and brown, it reflected the sunlight that glared down upon it amazingly. She was country girl incarnate. Part of Riko wanted to snuggle up to her and use her thighs as a pillow, but as of right now, her job came first.

Before Riko had a chance to fully… examine her opponent (she was staring at her tits) in anticipation for the match, she stood up, and lifted a large, metal, hexagonal… thing off the floorboards next to her, and carried it at her side, from the handle. 

“Y-yes, I am.” 

Harvester stepped down from the porch, revealing her weapon in full. 6 full meters in length at least, every individual vertex spiked across the blade. It appeared to be the header of a combine harvester, separated from the greater machinery and given a handle. Seeing it this way, there was no feasible way she should have been able to lift it in the first place. “Very well. I thought I could escape the ranks by moving out here, forget the killing, the nightmares, the ghosts that haunt me each and every day. Maybe one day, I’d be able to sleep peacefully, knowing I’d never have to take another life… But I suppose the past has a way of catching up to you.”

“Umm, Miss Harvester?”

“Oh, don’t mind me. I was just mumbling to myself. And please, call me Emma.” Her giant blade started spinning rapidly, specks of blood flying off the spiked ends. “I hope you’re prepared.”

Riko rested her hand on her katana’s hilt and tensed her arm, ready to strike at any moment. Her eyebrows fuzzled, as she put on her coolest voice to reply, “Anytime.”

Emma, as she was apparently called, made a small, but triumphant humph. “You know, every now and then, some young, peppy assassin comes from the woodworks, new to the job, and walks up to my doorstep to take me down.”

“Let me guess. Dead?”   


“That’s right.” Emma turned to her mountains of still-growing wheat, fields of yellow as far as the eye could see. “Buried here, at this farm. At least, what’s left of them. I don’t like taking lives.

“Then why do you still do it?” Riko chirped up. “Why do you still sit here at this farm, waiting for kids like me to walk up to it? Why do you still stand up, accepting the challenge? Why do you still wield that blade, knowing it’ll only lead to more blood being spilled? Or… splattered, I guess?”

Emma chuckled. “Because I have no other choice. I signed the contract, I took the money. But for that, I had to pay with my soul… and a couple of other people’s, too. So here I am now, stuck at rank 10, too scared to climb and too stubborn to leave.” As Emma spoke, her face didn’t change. She only stared off into the sky, yearningly. Instead of a booming anger one might expect, she spoke in a soft, passive tone, only accentuated by a hint of regret that polluted her voice. 

“And why are you telling this to  _ me _ ?”

“Because I think you’re different. Tell me, why do you fight?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you want to climb the ranks?”

“Well… Money, I guess.”

“Don’t lie to me. If you were in it for the money, you’d be chopped up and covering the soil already.”

Riko couldn’t find the words in her heart to respond. 

“No response?” Emma spouted. “Maybe I was wrong. Don’t disappoint me.”

Before she knew it, Emma jumped in the air, bolstering her combine blade with her shoulders. Riko rolled to the side, just as the machine tore up the ground it hit. Soil spewed everywhere, scattering the surroundings in dirt.

God damn. If Riko got hit with  _ that  _ thing, she’d be human salad in a second flat.

Emma lifted the blade back up, and started to make another swing. Riko drew her sword, their weapons meeting between them. The (very loud) sound of metal screeching against itself filled the air, as the farm-tool’s spinning blades hacked against the  _ Dawnbreaker. _

__ Riko gasped. In a moment of quick thinking, she mashed her sword against the other, stopping the clash and separating the girls. As Emma was busy reeling back, ready for another rally, Riko had to face a hard truth.

_ If I just mindlessly clash blades, that thing is gonna tear  _ Dawnbreaker  _ up. I’ll have to play smart… _

In the middle of her pondering, Riko noticed how fast her heart was pounding against her chest. Had it always been beating this hard? No… no, it hadn’t. It only started to do so once Emma’s giant spinny stick of death started rotating. But… it wasn’t because of fear. The only thing Riko feared in this scene was Emma’s above-average perception, and not her skill as a fighter. Her heart had obviously been pounding in anticipation. The feeling of meeting blades with another individual… it felt like something Riko was born to do. Like this was her calling. Like the string tied to her heart led her to this very confrontation. Why did Riko fight? Money. Why did Riko  _ want  _ to fight? So she  _ could  _ fight. So she  _ could  _ feel that anticipation, feel the hilt sink into her fingers, feel the blood cover her face in a coat of red.

__ “Harvester. You asked me earlier why I fight.”

“For money, right?”

“No. Well, that’s part of it, but no. What I really want is blood.”

Emma only raised her eyebrow in response.

“The anticipation of what your opponent does next, and the way you’ll counter it. The impact of clashing blades, the hilt sinking into your wrist. That feeling of their blood covering your face. You know it too, right?”

Emma smiled. Not in a smug, I’m-better-than-you kind of way, a genuine, heartwarming smile. It was the first time Riko saw an expression on her face other than the plain, dry look from before. “All too well.” She finally answered. “Now, prepare yourself, rookie!”

__ She readied her grip and stanced up. Facing Emma dead-on, Riko watched the header closely. Emma pulled it behind her, and swang. 

Riko was forced to roll backwards. She was outranged. If she wanted a fair shot, she’d have to outmaneuver the six meter hunk of hell her opponent was currently slugging around. 

Riko readied her stance once more. As Emma started winding up, Riko ran up in front of her, and slashed at her fingers. 

The combine header fell to the ground, a trail of blood following its path. Emma’s right hand was now only capped by five bloody stumps. But she didn’t scream. Emma only smiled, and laughed deviously. 

“Looks like I was right about you.” She made a pointing motion, but it was hard to tell, because she no longer had a pointer finger. Instead, blood spewed out of the stump, painting a red trail straight between Riko and her opponent. “You’re not like anyone else I’ve faced for this past year. You’ve actually got what it takes. Now, take your sword, and do what I couldn’t.”

“Very well!” Riko made a quick swipe, and sliced Emma’s head clean off. 

Blood fountained out of Emma's neck. Riko shielded her face with her arm, so she wouldn't have to eat any of Emma's life juice. Emma's lifeless, headless, right-hand-fingerless body fell to the ground, making a 'thump' noise as it did so.

"Congratulations." A stale, bored, somewhat superior sounding voice stated from behind Riko. Riko didn’t even have to turn around to tell it was Maki. "You are now ranked number tenth in the Tokyo Assassin Ranking."

Riko exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. She felt like a different person had taken control of her body just now, and used her hands to slaughter that person. But no, it was her. She clearly remembered slicing that head off. In fact, she was still holding the sword she used to do so. The blood was on her hands. Quite literally, since her hands were covered in streaks of red.

“Tell me, Maki.” Riko started. “Are they all like this?”

Maki paused for a moment, as if to consider the implications of what Riko asked. She sighed, and replied, “Not really. Everyone else in the rankings is either trying to get higher, or is satisfied with their current position. In other words, they’re not actively trying to get out, and they’re not waiting for their contract to expire, either.”

“So, it’ll only get tougher from now?”

“That goes without saying.” 

Riko breathed in. This was it, no turning back. From now on, she was an assassin, destined to walk down the trail of blood. There was only one way out of here… getting to the top. And 9 more opponents, bloodthirsty as ever, stood in her way. Wait, wasn’t she forgetting something?

“By the way, the prize money is being transferred to your account as we speak.”

Right, the money. She needed that. “Thanks.”

“I thought you would’ve asked about that first. Well, whatever.” Maki’s voice carried a very nonchalant tone. Riko guessed she was probably shrugging her arms right now. “As soon as you pay the entry fee, the next fight can be scheduled.” 

“I’m ranked tenth now, right?” Riko asked rhetorically. “What if someone challenges me?”

“You’ll be notified of the change in schedule, and will receive a portion of their entry fee as soon as possible.”

“A portion?”

“Most of it goes to the association.”

Riko bit her lip. Corporations. “Alright, one more question. This farm, what happens to it?”

“The association confiscates it.”

“And then?”

“I can’t speak any more on that.”

Riko sighed. She sort of wished she could have kept some of the harvest, as a memento. Or as food. Or maybe take the tractor? That might go for some money...


	2. Cold Shower

Riko plunked onto her mattress triumphantly.

At last, she could afford a bed frame.

In this moment, victory, money, and killing meant nothing to her. Only the sweet, sweet feeling of being able to lay down and rest with the knowledge that a wooden structure now propped her bed up.

She exhaled, and let the feeling overcome her. At the very least, for this little moment in time.

-

“75000 yen?! What the hell?!”

“What? You’re moving up in the rankings. It only stands to reason that you have more to pay, right?”

“That doesn’t make sense at all!”

Riko heard Maki groan from the other side of the line. This woman  _ clearly  _ did not enjoy working with her. “Think about it this way. You’re  _ knowingly  _ eliminating a professional assassin. You don’t know what kind of jobs they may have set up currently, or what hits they may take in the future. In a sense, you’re stifling the economy. All things considered, you’re getting off pretty cheap. Got that?”

Riko paused to consider for a moment, still breathing heavily. She supposed, yes, that made sense. But she still had questions.

“Yeah, ok. But where does the entry fee go?”

“To the assassin that’s been challenged.”

“Huh? It goes to someone that’ll be dead?”

“Not exactly, no. It’s a gesture of good will… from the Association. If the challenged assassin had any last-minute business they needed to take care of, the entry fee is there to help pay for it. It can go either way, though. For example, if they wished to attend a fancy restaurant as a last meal, they could use the money received from the entry fee. Alternatively, if they wanted to guarantee their success in the upcoming rankings match, they could purchase a weapon.”

“And what happens if they  _ do  _ die?”

“Remember how you had to write the Association into your will?”

“Oh. In any case, how do you suppose I get the money for this entry fee? I already used the prize money I just got to pay for rent.”

“I don’t know. Pick up an assassination gig, maybe?”

“Assassination gigs? Don’t you have to get hired for those?”

“Yes, but since you’re ranked tenth now, getting opportunities should only get easier from here. Try checking your email.”

“My email?” Riko slapped her laptop open, and hurried to her mailbox. Sure enough, it had been flooded with offers of cash, in exchange for killing bankers, politicians, what have you. Scrolling down, she could see that these offers were nothing if not plentiful. She had to give it to the association, they were good at what they did.

“I’m assuming you can take it from here?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

-

Riko decided to take up a relatively simple job. Some lawyer, named Erena Todo. Her employer had been kind enough to supply Riko with the target’s address, which saved a lot of hassle on her part. 

Once again traveling by bike, Riko slammed on her pedals, sword at the ready. Even by simply traveling in this direction, Riko could feel the disparity between the wealthy tycoons of Tokyo, and her lifestyle of borderline poverty. Bigger houses, fancier cars, some even had villas styled to match traditional Japanese buildings. Man, were all rich people like this? She almost felt out of place. This neighborhood definitely wasn’t familiar to seeing outsiders with old leather jackets, deteriorating jeans, and kinda-smelly t-shirts. 

Eventually, though, she did reach the place. Pretty standard… for a household as rich as this, anyways. Two stories, big windows, and a three-car garage, although the only car in sight was parked out front. Really, the whole thing looked sort of plain. If it were up to  _ her,  _ Riko would probably want more stories, and some cars to fill up that garage. Maybe a statue. Of her. But for now, Riko definitely wasn’t one to judge. But only for now.

Deciding to make a stealthy entrance, Riko dived through the window, glass shattering all over the floor. Landing on a bear skin rug, she found herself in what appeared to be a living room. It was quiet… A bit too quiet. Usually, a person wouldn’t be dead silent if they had just heard their window be smashed into smithereens. And judging by the car parked outside, Erena  _ was  _ home. Her employer openly stated she only had one vehicle. The issue here must have been that Erena had some experience.

Riko drew her sword, an acute  _ shing _ ringing off the blade. She could probably expect some middle-aged businesswoman to hop out at her from behind a corner with a handgun any second now. Glass crunching beneath her shoes, she tread slowly down a hallway.

Riko listened carefully, trying to hear for anything besides her footsteps and her breathing. The only other sound she could make out was the faint blow of an air conditioner. No guns being cocked, no doors creaking open, no sign of another life. Like there wasn’t even another person here in the first place…

Suddenly, a female figure jumped from behind a corner, and shot straight at Riko. Riko instinctively ducked, the bullet missing her by a hair, and cut the woman across the middle with a single slash.

Riko looked at the two halves of the body she had just slaughtered. It was Erena, alright. Holding a pistol, just as she had expected. She had finished off her target, but… something was amiss. No, it couldn't have been that she had killed the wrong target. Erena lived alone. It was something deeper.

She didn’t feel… satisfied. Of course, she’d never expect a lawyer to put up much of a fight, but she had found herself wanting more of a challenge. 

Riko sighed, and sheathed her sword. She supposed that the challenges waited within the ranked matches. Right now, there were bills to pay. Riko flipped out her phone, and sent a confirmation email to her employer.

-

“Rank 9 goes by _The Diamond Samurai.”_ Maki’s voice sounded as uninterested as ever, to the point that Riko started to believe she really didn’t care that someone would be dead within the coming minutes. “From what I’ve heard, they’re a bit dramatic in their presentation, so expect a showdown fit for one of those classic, black-and-white samurai movies.” 

Riko held her phone up to her ear, while pedaling up a steep mountain. The so-called _Diamond Samurai_ had specifically requested they duel at sunset. They were dramatic, alright. Panting heavily, she remarked, “Some samurai movie junkie, huh?”  
“Something like that. No guards this time around either, out of honor, or... something like that.”

Riko smiled. Samurai are the best. She’d have pumped her fist if her hands weren’t both occupied at the moment.

She reached a point where the hill turned into a completely flat surface, overlooking the cityscape. 

“I’ll call you back.” Riko stated, before shoving the phone down her pocket.

In the far distance, she could spot the setting sun, eclipsing a small silhouette of Mount Fuji. Riko had no idea there were locations like this in  _ Tokyo,  _ if this place even counted as part of Tokyo. Shielding her eyes from the sun, a slim figure stood in the distance. 

Facing away from Riko, the figure’s long, dark brown hair blew in the wind, a shiny glare casting itself onto the kimono she wore. Riko could make out the sword they carried in their hand, a classic katana. Riko, hands on her own katana, stepped forward. 

The figure turned their head. A bright blue shimmered across her the iris of her eyes, shining like perfectly-cut diamonds. Riko supposed the title  _ Diamond Samurai  _ made a lot more sense to her now. Now that her face was completely revealed to Riko, one thing became apparent. 

The  _ Diamond Samurai  _ was a woman.

And shit damn, was she one! The mature look, the serious glance, the hime cut! Oh god, the hime cut. The way her gaze cut through Riko like a spear. Or a katana, in this case. The immaculate beauty mark, placed on her lower chin. It was all so fucking perfect. She was spitting image of a  _ yamato nadeshiko,  _ which, unfortunately, was a great weakness of Riko’s. Riko could only imagine how skilled she was in bed. That is to say, Riko couldn’t tell if she was a gentle onee-chan type, or a power dom. And, frankly, Riko couldn’t tell which one would be more attractive.

Riko was so busy looking at her face, she didn’t notice the eight swords holstered at her sides. 

Wait, what the fuck? This chick had  _ nine  _ swords, including the one she was holding. That was pretty raw, actually. 

Riko grinned. Finally, this was getting interesting.

“Greetings. My name is Dia Kurosawa.” The samurai bowed. “I look forward to our fight.”

“Oh, um… hi. I’m Riko Sakurachi. Nice to meet you!” Riko yelled quickly, bowing as well. Man, speaking to hot girls made her nervous.

Dia chuckled. “Very well.” She raised her sword, and ushered Riko in for a challenge. Tearing  _ Dawnbreaker  _ out of its sheath, Riko primed herself in response, and eyed down the samurai.

For a moment, everything was still. The only thing that moved was their hair, blowing with the wind. With the breeze, a gentle sound carried itself across Riko’s ears, passing cooly down her earlobes. The warm sun, blindingly orange, carried a radiance through the sky as twilight fell upon the land.

Riko blinked, and that moment was over. Rushing towards her opponent, Riko raised her sword, in anticipation to strike. Dia blocked the attack, a clanking sound echoing off the clashing blades. With a swift kick, Riko was sent spiraling backwards.

Dusting herself off, Riko jumped off the ground, and readied her stance again.

_ That probably wasn’t the smartest move,  _ she thought to herself. Riko grunted. This one would be tough.

Dia lowered her arms, and pulled the sword back, as if she was going in for a strike. But, wait, she wasn’t anywhere near her. What was she doing?

The samurai ripped her arms forward, launching her katana, which span around like a boomerang. It was headed straight towards Riko.    
What the fuck.

Riko waited for the sword boomerang to get close, before rolling out of the way to dodge it. As she expected, the sword continued to fly, right back into the Samurai’s hands. 

Riko started breathing heavily now. She had no idea what to expect. 

Her opponent again brought the sword to her back, and threw it like a boomerang. And then, she unsheathed a sword from her left, and threw  _ that  _ one. Now  _ two  _ swords were being flung at her.

The samurai unsheathed  _ another  _ sword, tossing that one as well. Now there were  _ three! _

Out of options, Riko gripped her katana with both hands, and held it like a baseball bat. As a boomerang sword hovered towards her, Riko swang, launching the sword back into the samurai’s grip.

Riko brought  _ Dawnbreaker  _ back again, and swang. Another sword down.

Just as she was about to swing down the third, Riko spotted another sword being thrown at her. This wasn’t going anywhere. She bunted the sword in her immediate front, then made a run for it. Crossing up the boomerang that was still coming, she made a mad dash for the samurai, ready to strike. But just as she did so, Riko was met with another strike, clashing swords once again.

Riko jumped back. This time, she had a plan.

Dia flung another sword. Riko held her sword once again like a batter, ready to take the pitch. But just as she saw the samurai unsheathing another sword, she ran  _ towards  _ her, jumping over the currently-spinning katana, and sliced down on the samurai’s hand, knocking the sword away.

As they both watched the sword fall towards the ground, time seemed to stop once more. Dia closed her eyes in a sorrowful manner, and kneeled on the ground.

Riko, like anyone slightly familiar with samurai, had heard of this. It was the act of  _ seppuku,  _ samurai killing themselves because they couldn’t handle the dishonor of losing _.  _ But Riko had only seen seppuku in old movies, and a couple documentary flicks. Was she about to witness an honorable samurai kill herself firsthand?

The  _ Diamond Samurai  _ caught the sword that came flying from behind Riko, which Riko had completely forgotten was there. She then lowered it to her chest, and stabbed it through.

Blood spurted from the samurai’s back, wetting the cliff in glorious red liquid.

But Dia wasn’t done. She unsheathed another sword from her arsenal, and stabbed herself with that, too. And then another. And then another. And then another. Eventually, Riko was looking at the remains of someone who had calmly stabbed themselves with eight of their own swords. The samurai’s body flopped over, leading blood to spurt skyward, straight out of her back.

Damn, that was metal.

“Congratulations. You are now ranked the ninth greatest assassin in Tokyo.” Maki, seemingly appearing from nowhere, said to Riko.

“You weren’t kidding about it being tougher. I didn’t know what to do with myself for a second there.”

“Well, make sure you figure that out. The next fight can be arranged at your leisure, although I expect you’ll want it to be soon.”

“You got that right.”

Maki made a vague, wavy motion with her hand. “Nothing wrong with that. Make sure you turn in your entry fee as soon as possible.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Riko looked back at the  _ Diamond Samurai’ _ s corpse. With its head hung low and kimono now in tatters, the warrior was quite a sight. With the blood having finished spouting and her arms suspended, she seemed nearly at peace with herself, her eyes closed, as if to say, “My journey ends here.” An honorable death for sure.

Riko couldn’t lie to herself. She wasn’t sure if it was her dom energy, her general cool aura, or her skill with the sword, but Riko was attracted to that samurai. Not her physical figure - although, she was attracted to that as well - she wanted to become her. Or rather, she wanted to become an honorable samurai of her own. A cool figure, standing on the cliffside, waiting for her next challenger… Now  _ that  _ was the life. Only eight more fights until Riko reached that point, the top of that mountain, and could look back, eyeing down everyone that dared confront her. That’s what awaited her. But for today, she had to be satisfied with only partially climbing up that mountain, one obstacle out of her way. If nothing else, Riko could now say that she had seen someone kill themselves eight times over.

She didn’t really know how to feel about that.


End file.
